


Under Control

by TheAntiHero



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Comics, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Ruins of the Empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAntiHero/pseuds/TheAntiHero
Summary: With Kuvira in Team Avatar's custody, Asami is understandably the most uptight person on the airship. Her interactions with everyone, including Korra, are limited to business, and she seems interested in nothing besides monitoring Kuvira and piloting the ship. At dusk, Mako and Bolin give Korra the opportunity to help Asami unwind.





	Under Control

**Under Control**

Ever since Kuvira set foot in the airship, the tension in the air became unmistakably thick. Not that it came as a surprise to anyone; the woman was a criminal. A killer. The former leader of a highly oppressive regime. Now, she strutted about the place almost freely, save for the platinum handcuffs that kept her wrists bound to one another. Despite having newfound freedom, Kuvira remained stationary, seated on the couch in the lounge area. For the majority of the flight, Mako and Bolin kept a close eye on her. When she wasn’t tending to the airship’s wheel, Asami’s sharp eyes were on her as well.

Asami was the source of the majority of the tension.

Everyone could feel it the moment she entered the room. Her leaf green eyes, which were normally bright and kind, were as dark as a forest. The aura she gave off repelled almost everyone from her, including Korra, who only spoke to her when necessity called for it. There was one brave soul: the jovial Bolin, who attempted to dispel her unease by striking up a friendly chat. Asami entertained him for a time, but her politeness stemmed solely from charity, not a genuine desire to speak. When she’d had enough, she disappeared from the lounge and took up her post at the bridge.

The day passed relatively quickly. Odd considering the fact that the team hadn’t engaged in any stimulating recreation. How could they while they had an imprisoned dictator in their custody? A_ highly dangerous_ imprisoned dictator at that. Their worries, so far, seemed to be in vain; Kuvira remained civil, docilely studying the sunset that blanketed the great mountains of her homeland. With the woman distracted, Mako rose from his spot at the table with his brother and King Wu, nodding to the former in the meantime.

“Bathroom break?” Bolin asked, clearly out of line. Mako scowled to find Kuvira’s attention torn away from the landscape, fixated on him instead. The boy responded to her stare with a nasty scowl, which he softened before returning to his kin.

“No, I’m just...” He sighed throatily. “I’ll be right back.” With that said and done, he strode up a brief flight of stairs, continuing to hold the attention of his audience. Korra awaited him on the other side of the room, back against the wall and arms crossed. She perked upon realizing the boy was making his way toward her, and she prepared herself to receive him. “You mind if we speak in private?” he asked lowly once he was close enough. The girl was more than happy to oblige, so they excused themselves from the room.

Down a handful of corridors, they found their privacy away from the sentries working aboard the airship. After seeing how far Mako had led her, Korra evidently grew worried something was amiss. Eventually, she could withhold her concerns no longer.

“Something the matter, Mako?” she inquired shortly before they came to a stop. “You sure led us a ways away from everyone else.”

A light, barely noticeable tint of red colored Mako’s face, but his eyes remained sincere and clear. The expression alone put Korra at ease; there wasn’t anything_ too _wrong, otherwise, it wouldn’t have evoked such a relatively mild reaction from her friend. Nonetheless, his uncharacteristically pensive face was quite the sight to gawk at.

“Um... We couldn’t help but notice how tense Asami’s been today,” Mako mentioned.

“Well yeah,” the girl replied matter-of-factly. Her arms returned over her chest, and her back straightened. ”Think I wasn’t aware of that? Please don’t say that’s all you drug us here to tell me.”

“No, no, of course not.” He shook his head insistently. “I mean, we’re _all_ stressed here, but Asami’s...”

Korra’s gaze hardened.

“Yeah.”

“I figured you guys’d like to have the night to yourselves. We’ll let Kuvira sleep in that cabinet Asami tried to put her in earlier, and Bolin and I’ll take turns watching her. You two don’t have to worry about night shifts.” His eyes held a glint of somberness, and he didn’t attempt to hide it for once. “She could probably use someone to help her unwind.” A forced grin suddenly found itself on his lips. It was supposed to look happy, but it only ended up looking awkward. His blush, which deepened, did him no favors. “Who’s better for the job than her girlfriend?”

In an instant, what little tension there was between them dispersed. Uncrossing her arms yet again, Korra’s posture dropped, and she chuckled lightly as she pat the boy’s shoulder. Under her firm grip, the muscles in his broad, rigid shoulders unknotted.

“Guess it’s _still _awkward for you,” she observed lightheartedly. “Ah, Mako... I’ll see what I can do about her.” The chuckling stopped, and she looked mildly uncomfortable. “But spirits, Asami’s probably furious with me.”

“She been giving you the cold shoulder?”

“All day.”

“Korra.” Mako took the hand resting on his shoulder, clasped it in his hands, then rubbed it briefly before releasing it. “She knows why you brought Kuvira along. She’s not mad at you. Right now she’s just...”

“Going through a lot. I know.” She smiled warmly at him. “And that’s where I come in, right?”

Mako confidently smiled back.  
“Right.”

“Thanks, Mako. Same for Bolin. You guys’re the best, you know that?”

“Now, don’t go thinking I’m doing this _just _for you two,” Mako began playfully. In the meantime, his feet took him back down the hall, for he planned to reunite with his brother and their prisoner. “Asami’s the one flying this thing. I do _not _want her in a bad mood.”

It took a while of resisting her protests, but the three managed to get Kuvira encased in the headless coffin that stood off to the side of the lounge. With only her head exposed, Kuvira’s steely gaze scrutinized the three as they quietly conspired their next move. They paid her no mind despite being fully aware of being watched.

“Guess I’ll be clocking out for the night,” Korra said to the brothers, noting the darkness beyond the large window behind them. The moon illuminated the various farming fields that dotted the countryside. “Did Wu already go to bed?”

“Oh, that guy went to bed _ages _ago,” Bolin answered. “You’d think he’s an old lady or something.”

Mako, unsurprised by Wu’s bedtime habits, simply rolled his eyes and turned to his friend. He nodded.

“We have everything covered. Go on ahead and get some rest.”

“Hope you have a _wonderful_ time.” Bolin bounced his eyebrows and laced his fingers together, grinning unbearably wide.

“Shut up, Bolin,” Korra giggled, ramming a fist into his chest. It felt like punching a rock, which gave her all the justification she needed to hit without restraint. Bolin only pretended to be hurt. “You two take it easy, alright?” She waved and proceeded to head for the bridge, but a low, gruff voice caught her ear, making her freeze in her tracks.

“Avatar.”

The friendly atmosphere was destroyed, and Korra’s body language changed accordingly. Behind the Avatar, from the confinements of her prison, Kuvira looked at her emotionlessly.

“What is it?” Korra asked lowly, though not quite as low as their prisoner’s naturally husky tone.

“There’s no telling if this will be one of the last times I get to see the beautiful Earth Kingdom mountains,” muttered the woman. Despite how calm and collected she appeared, the slight crack in her voice gave everything away. “Will you turn this cabinet around so I can look out the window some more?”

The brothers turned to Korra afterward, genuinely anticipating her response. The two women simply glared at one another in the deafening silence, listening to nothing but the wind as it scraped the sides of the airship. Like Aang’s statue in the harbor of Republic City, Korra was deathly still, muscles growing exceptionally rigid. Nothing transpired between the two, yet the tension, the pressure, threatened to burst. The whirring of an upset teapot... The cries of an overwhelmed pipe... Something about it all compelled Mako and Bolin to ease into a fighting stance. They had no clue why. It wasn’t like a fight was going to break out between the two.

And then, in a mere split-second, it was over; Korra wordlessly turned back around and finished her journey to the bridge.

Left behind, Bolin shrugged, then leaned against Kuvira’s case.

“Guess that’s a ‘no’.”

* * *

There wasn’t a single light on in the bridge. Korra was at the mercy of the moon as she prowled inside, silently pulling the door closed behind her. In truth, there wasn’t any need for artificial light; with the front of the bridge being nothing but one large, windowed dome, the moon had plenty of room to creep inside. Pale blue illuminated the empty floor.

A single figure stood at the steering wheel. The ship’s coordinates were accurate, slated for the right direction for at least another eleven hours. Though attendance was unnecessary, Asami babysat the coordinate reel, eyes devoid of any particular emotion. Both were aware of the other’s presence, and both were aware of the other’s awareness. Nonetheless, not a word arose between them. Korra approached from behind, clearing her throat to make her position known. She didn’t want to spook the girl as she snaked her arms around her core, pulling her into a tight embrace and burying her face into her neck. Worry badgered her when Asami did not respond to her loving gestures, but all was well once her gloved hand found a place to rest atop her own.

Korra wasted only a minute before taking hold of one of her wrists, which she’d humbly offered. Asami did not protest as Korra gently divorced her from the controls. They trod lightly down the residential hall, cautious not to awaken Wu as they passed his room. Judging by the thunderous snoring that sounded beyond his door, that actually wasn’t something they needed to worry about.

Furthest down the hall awaited a single room: the captain’s suite, which they rightfully claimed. Beyond the door rested a room with a generous amount of space. As to be expected, it was nowhere near the size of their room at the Sato estate, but it was fairly luxurious nonetheless. Quite the cozy place to crash onto the bed, which was where Korra led her love. It took coaxing, but Asami eventually seated herself at the edge. Fearing she may forget if she did not, Korra then tended to the door and its lock. With a bedside lamp flicked on, she joined Asami, sitting beside her in the silence. The Avatar occupied herself with staring at the carpeted floor until her neighbor pushed some weight onto her side, leaning against her. It was a welcomed action. Korra adjusted to accommodate the girl’s head as it rested on her shoulder.

“Good news,” Korra announced at last. “Mako said he and Bolin’ll watch Kuvira tonight. That’s nice, uninterrupted sleep for us.” Asami only nodded in response. It left Korra with almost nothing to work with, which was why she allowed her eyes to awkwardly meander to her lap. A gloved hand rested there, and she didn’t hesitate to gently take hold of it. Calloused fingers ran over the bumps and edges of Future Industry’s latest electric glove model, which they sought to remove from the girl’s palm. Unexpectedly, Asami attempted to stop her.

“No, Korra,” she said firmly, pulling her hand away. By readjusting the glove, she undid Korra’s work.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean ‘why not’?” Her bulky hand pointed to the door. “There’s a ruthless war criminal right down that hall. That crazy woman didn’t think twice about shooting at her fiancé if it meant getting to you. There’s no way she isn’t going to try to pull something while she has the chance. You expect me to just relax?”

Korra released her.

“Look, Asami, I know you’re mad at me, bu-“

“I’m not _mad _at you, Korra, I...” Her face contorted as she massaged her aching temples. “...can’t get this awful feeling out of the back of my head.”

“Right... right... I’m a little weary too.” Korra’s own face melted with empathy, and she wrapped an arm around the side of her torso to pull her in for a hug. Asami gratefully accepted the invitation to meld their bodies together, but the heaviness in the room remained. So much for helping her relax. Once Asami had it in her head that something worried her, there wasn’t anything _anyone _could do to ease her nerves. Not anyone except herself, that is.

Hold on a minute.

Constantly pacing around the steering wheel at the bridge... Sporting her latest and most powerful gear... Insisting that they forced Kuvira into the iron cabinet she had brought onto the ship... Having the team transport Kuvira in _her _airship to begin with...

Control. Asami was grasping for control over the situation.

Korra lifted her head, struck by an epiphany. She then excitedly turned her gaze to the girl resting against her side, and her fingers nudged at her jaw until she was facing her. Their eyes locked. Asami would find warm sparkles glistening in her girlfriend’s eyes as she looked down at her, as well as a gentle smile that eased all over her lips.

“Okay, I got an idea,” began the Avatar. “I: Avatar Korra, the most powerful being alive, am now your puppet.” Like a loose marionette, the girl’s lofty body came crashing down on Asami. Her limp body landed on the bed after getting thrown off. Korra chortled in the meantime. “Go on, Asami. Tell me what to do. I’ll do whatever it is you want.”

Asami lifted a brow.

_"Anything,_ now?” she asked, tone skeptical. Korra nodded eagerly. “Okay. I’ll find a place to land the ship. Once we’re on the ground, you’re going to get on Naga and find somewhere to wait while we handle this.”

The other girl’s face dropped.

“Well... I can’t exactly do _that...”_

“Figured,” Asami sighed. Her face went back to drooping, which lured Korra to sit back up. She peered closer, taking in the exhaustion that’d conquered her entire form. There were the classical external signs, but Asami’s deep breaths and deflated posture spoke just as loudly. Korra hoped to spark some life into the corpse by pecking her lips, and not even a second later, she had a kindling fire glowing in the midst of her palm.

“Look. Look here. See this fire? Tell me what you want me to do with it.”

Her plan worked somewhat; a little bit of pep returned to the girl, who smiled kindly at her. A hint of weariness remained in her furrowed eyebrows, but her attitude seemed slanted in a favorable direction. At last, it seemed, she’d caught on to Korra’s schemes, and she wasn’t one to hamper them. Pondering occupied her for a while. Just when Korra was ready to give up and extinguish the flame, Asami brought herself to her feet and began rummaging through her dresser. The curious Avatar rose and peeked over the other girl’s shoulder, watching her yank open drawer after drawer. As if they were hiding from her the entire time, Asami found what she was looking for in the final compartment: tall, skinny candlesticks, which she positioned in the various chambersticks stationed about the room.

Once she’d finished her decorating, she approached Korra, firmly took her by the wrist, and led her to each candle. All Korra had to do was maintain the ember in her palm. Asami was the one doing all the work, meticulously pointing the flame toward each candle’s virgin wick. Warm, golden light coated the room. Turning off the lamp only exacerbated the intimate, sensual aura that swelled from the fire. In the midst of it, the two paused, facing and studying one another, and Asami was the first to break the moment.

“Come on,” she softly urged Korra while grabbing a wooden chair from a neighboring desk. It found a new home before the dresser, mingling with the cushioned vanity stool. Korra eagerly complied when the girl commanded her to sit. She got the desk chair, and Asami got the plush stool. While crossing one leg over the other, Asami's graceful fingers subtly motioned toward the dresser’s surface. There was a disorganized heap of makeup, but the basin that sat among the clutter was what captured her attention. “Wash my face off.”

Korra gave her no word of acknowledgment; she obeyed without question, wiggling her fingers over the mouth of the basin. Like molasses, the water rose out of the bowl in an unnatural shape, soon slimming out into a long, uninterrupted string of liquid. She cut the line before it got too long, then reshaped it into a decent-sized glob she suspended in the air. With the precision of a surgeon, she brought the water to one of Asami’s closed eyes and began to effortlessly scrub away at her violet eye shadow.

“You know, every one of us non-benders goes through a phase when we _die_ to feel what it’s like to bend. Not everyone has it at the same age, but it’s inevitable. Some people eventually learn to accept they’ll never know... but others let it make them bitter.”

Korra listened intently, but she refused to let herself get too distracted from the important task assigned to her. Anything Asami asked of her was paramount. Being sent to stop Commander Guan felt like a chore compared to delicately sliding the water down to her cheek. With pride, she began working at a light layer of foundation.

“How old were you when you went through this... _phase?”_

“Seven, but I still don’t think I’ve gotten past it.”

“Oh...” Korra looked away nervously. “It hasn’t made _you _bitter, has it?”

Asami’s eyes, without warning, reopened, and she gazed at Korra intently. She didn’t know it, but she looked goofy with only half her face caked in makeup. The latter fought to lasso a smile and hold it back, but it bucked its way free. On the bright side, a giggle as loving as hers was contagious.

“Do you _really _think I’d be here right now if it did?” Asami closed her eyes again as Korra migrated to the other side of her face.

“That was stupid of me to ask.” Upon completing her task, Korra pulled back and replaced the water in the bowl. She then marveled at the girl’s natural features. No longer were they hidden by paints and powders. Her lips seemed less plump with her lipstick washed away, and she looked exhausted without powder concealing the bags weighing her eyes down. Still, everything about her, even the conventionally undesirable blemishes, was breathtaking. Every part about Asami, to Korra, was good. Admiring her untainted face made warmth swell in her core, fueling a relentless vigor. “How about this: you can bend _me._ You can be the world’s first and only _Avatarbender.”_

Almost instantly, a snort escaped Asami’s nose, and laughing followed.

_"Avatarbender?”_

“Yep.”

“What sort of powers does _that_ entail?”

“Well, _I_ can control the four elements... but _you _control _me.”_

Asami appeared open to the proposal, seeing that the stress and anxiety that’d once coated her face disappeared. Her fingers worked their way behind her neck and fondled with the latch on her necklace, which she soon presented to Korra. The piece dangled from her fingertips. Something about the sight was surreal. When Korra watched Asami work on her machinery, she saw that she threw delicacy to the wind; her movements were stiff and rigid, hands coated in grease and oil. Now, Asami moved with such tenderness. Such fluidity. Korra obeyed her desire to translate that fluidity into the necklace, before which she clenched her fist. Like liquid, the necklace slid out of Asami’s grasp and gathered into a single, tiny ball. The Avatar caught the marble in her hand, then offered it to her darling with a face that sought approval. The other girl observed it quietly before shaking her head.

“Let’s make it a ring.”

Korra complied, molding it into a simple, small band, though it needed readjusting when it refused to fit Asami’s slender index finger. Once it was the perfect size, the girl admired her newest piece. Simple and unembellished as it was, she clearly loved it with exuberance. Korra’s heart fluttered at the sight of Asami gently removing her other glove: the menacing, electrified glove. She leaned back to set it on the nightstand right beside the bed. Afterward, she set her jaw on her knuckle, elbow resting on the top of the dresser. Her pupils were thick with emotion... an emotion Korra happened to be quite familiar with. It made her blush furiously.

“Looks good on you,” she commented.

“I think it’s my new favorite.” Her hand raised so she could study it some more, memorizing every minor imperfection. “Don’t you hate that feeling, though? You know, that feeling when you want to wear your favorite, but you also don’t want to lose it?”

“No kidding,” Korra agreed with a nod. With a stretch, she rose from her seat and prodded to where their luggage resided. Effortlessly, she took her suitcase by the handle and threw it onto the bed, then began digging for her nightclothes. “That’s how I felt with Naga when she was a cub-pup. Didn’t want to take her anywhere. I was afraid she’d run off and never come back, but we _always_ wanted to play outside.” They stopped speaking for a while. In the meantime, Korra turned her back on the girl to slip out of her sleeveless top. Before she could cover herself in a loose tank top, though, Asami cleared her throat. Puzzled, the girl paused and looked over her toned shoulder, and she found the other girl had disappeared from the vanity. Instead, she sat at the edge of the bed again, running a brush through her long, sleek hair. She’d already shed her Future Industries jacket, which now cocooned the spine of the desk chair. A simple shirt remained on her torso, and dark, baggy pants hugged her legs.

That one simple sound was enough to confirm Korra’s suspicions, and it filled her to the brim with nervousness and excitement. The excitement drove her to abandon the nightshirt, then shove her suitcase onto the floor. She too crawled onto the bed, plopping her head down onto its single, but long, pillow. It wasn’t long before her partner joined her, curling up against her front. But while doing so, she also reached into the pocket of her pants, from which she withdrew a menacing switchblade (tattooed with the insignia of her company, of course). She urged Korra to be exceptionally still as she released the blade and carefully brought it to her strapping back. It burrowed its sharp tip beneath the linen wraps that concealed her chest and, as though it were frustrated with them, callously tore through its every stitch. Korra chuckled through her anxiousness as she tossed the ruined wraps onto the floor.

“Little chilly in here,” she observed, feeling a draft harass her barren skin.

“You think?” Asami briefly sat up to join her in shirtlessness. Though her chest remained concealed by a dark bustier, the sight of her porcelain skin instantly filled the observer with heat. It worsened when Asami pat her back, calling attention to the zipper that ran down the rear of her undergarment. Korra took the hint and assisted her. With the garment tossed aside, the girl crashed back down with a long, sensual sigh flowing through her nostrils. Her eyes closed while she basked in the attention her girlfriend’s hands gave her. Calloused fingers stroked her slender belly before migrating to her chest, which they kneaded. “Feels pretty warm in here to me,” she continued between gentle moans.

“Sure is now.” The red that painted Korra’s face could testify.

Unexpectedly, Asami rolled atop her, knocking the Avatar onto her back. Two elbows dug into the bed on either side of her neck, thumbs running over both her cheekbones. Their skin, light and dark, meshed together, soft chests clashing against one another as they sunk deeper into the plush mattress. The dominant dipped her head to capture the lips of her passive lover, whose fingers entangled themselves in the thickness of her black hair. Their mouths parted from one another when they grew desperate for breath.

“You really are something, you know that?” Asami kissed her again, albeit briefly. “You know all the buttons to press to ease my nerves.”

“Guess the Avatar can bend you too,” Korra observed with a sheepish grin. She combed through the black curtain. Miraculously, she failed to encounter a single tangle, which made running her fingers through it all the more hypnotic. Asami allowed herself to be groomed while she continued to dot Korra’s jawline with pecks, slowly creeping closer to her ear.

“Mind if we talk for a minute?” she whispered once she arrived. Her breath, which brushed against the outer rim of her ear, sent chills up Korra’s spine. She rode them out by tightly clenching wads of black tresses, breathing in sharply. But shortly after the waves subsided, her grip loosened, and she gave her domineer a questioning look.

“Oh. I thought we were gonna...”

“After,” Asami assured her. Her words were the key to letting Korra relax again, palm cupping her lover’s cheek. She used the leverage to pull her down for yet another kiss.

“Lay it on me.”

A heave flowed from Asami’s nostrils as she brought her head down lower, resting its side against Korra’s bare chest. The tips of her elegant fingernails ghosted across the thick, sinewy parts of the arm splayed out next to her.

“I had a dream about dad last night,” she said out of the blue. Korra didn’t immediately respond; she merely continued to stroke the top of her crown, stopping only when she was prepared to speak.

“Talk about bad timing.”

“It’s about what I expected, going to bed knowing we were about to go on a trip with Kuvira in our custody...”

Korra felt her heart quicken its pace within the confines of her chest, and each extra pound burned with ferocity. She resigned herself to staring at the warm-colored ceiling and counting what few blemishes it bore. It did nothing to tear her away from the subject.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” She ran her own nails against Asami’s back, but with far more force. Beneath her, the girl spaced out her shoulders to grant her more room to scratch.

“Didn’t think it’d affect me as much as it did. Wasn’t worth waking you up for.” With an ear pressed against her chest, she listened for the increased heartbeat. “I’ll never forgive her for what she did, but I’ve managed to get past the grieving stage for dad. I still miss him, of course. Now it’s you I’m worried about. If _anything_ happens to you...” The heart beat even faster. Asami felt it, so she lifted her head and returned to hovering over her Avatar. “I’d have no one else to live for again.”

Beneath her, Korra gazed up with a somber expression. That was because, when she contemplated the issue, Asami was right. Asami, Mako, and Bolin were good friends, but theirs was nothing like the emotional connection Asami shared with her father or Korra. Even Mako and Bolin, being orphan brothers, had a special relationship of their own. Asami definitely wouldn’t be alone if Korra were to go away... yet hers would still be a lonely, miserable existence. She’d do nothing but bury herself in work. It’d be no different than the dark period that followed her father’s arrest years ago.

“Asami?” Korra reached up again. Both hands took either side of the girl’s face, holding it steadily. Blue eyes delved into green. “The four of us have this completely under control.”

Her eyes made every single word radiate with truth. Maybe it was an Avatar thing._ Avatar eyes._ Eyes meant to accompany a voice that urged for diplomacy, compromise, and peace. Simple as the words, almost platitudes, were, they had a tremendous impact on their listener. Asami dove down, kissing her lover with unprecedented passion. They parted for only seconds, snatching a few quick gasps before reuniting. Betwixt two long kisses, Asami pulled back and ground their bangs together, heaving in the meantime.

“I’ll roast that Kuvira on a spit if she tries anything,” she grumbled from above, fire burning in her verdant eyes. Mouth agape, another smile crept across the Avatar’s lips. The huff that burst from her throat was meant to be a laugh.

“Don’t doubt it.”

Poor Mako and Bolin. They were probably under the impression the girls would get at least a _little_ bit of sleep, that way their sacrifice would not go in vain. Instead, Korra and Asami spent their night on passion. Mewling. Growling. Rubbing. Thrashing. Heaving. And on occasion, calling the other’s name loudly. By the time their exhausted, interlaced bodies collapsed onto the bed for the last time, the sun began peeking inside through the blinds. It was such a nosy thing; when Asami felt its rays attempt to molest her unclothed body, she scowled, released Korra, pulled the blankets back, and covered them both. Before resting, their sweaty arms grappled for the other, and they settled in stillness.

* * *

The sun was still up the next time one of them came to. Asami’s eyelids gradually unveiled two green eyes, and they peeked over her bedmate’s shoulder once she lifted her head. The clock on Korra’s side of the bed read inappropriate numbers. No way. It couldn’t be _that_ late, could it? No way...

Reality, and her responsibilities, suddenly crashed down on her like an avalanche, and her eyes widened.

She was supposed to change course nearly two hours ago.

“Shoot!” She stumbled out of bed, much to Korra’s chagrin. Having no strength to open them, Korra’s eyes remained shut as she rolled over, following Asami’s movements by the sounds she made. The jingle of a suitcase zipper caught her ear. Then the rustling of clothes. Then the click of a lid being popped off a tube of lipstick. The ruckus made the bedridden girl grumble with frustration.

“Asami...” she mewled. Briefly (and without avail), one of her arms reached out to her. “Come back to bed...”

“Not unless you feel like taking Kuvira to Ba Sing Se instead of Gaoling,” Asami retorted, comfortably positioning her new ring before concealing it with her weaponized glove. Freshly dressed, she approached the bed again, leaned down, and planted a quick kiss on her lover’s forehead, marking it with her lipstick. “See you when you get up.” Before departing, she grabbed the edge of the comforter and hurled it off Korra’s bare body, then sprinted out of the room. The slam of the door, in cooperation with the chilly draft, finally got Korra’s eyes to crack open, and she growled with exhaustion. After sitting up, she became still.

“Guess I should get ready too...” she muttered to herself.

Unlike Asami, she dressed leisurely, coiling a fresh sarashi over her bruised chest after jumping into a pair of baggy pants. When pressure was applied to them, a few patches on her skin ached to the point of making her flinch, but she endured the pain with a happy heart. They’d ravaged one another last night, except Asami definitely dealt the most damage. Like just about every time they made love, she secured her place on top for the majority of the night. Her every frustration... Her every anxiety... Her every insecurity... She took them out on Korra in the form of roughness. A loving kind Korra never protested. It made the tender segments of their night all the more enjoyable.

Decked out in her Water Tribe garb, Korra stepped out of the room and headed straight for the lounge, where she reunited with her shipmates. Mako and Bolin sat at the table, engaged in an intense game of lightning-fast street Pai Sho. As much as it raised Korra’s spirits to see the brothers enjoying one another’s company, something truly attention-worthy rested further down the table. It was an unexpected sight: the handcuffed Kuvira sat across from Wu, and they congregated over a collection of scrolls. Judging by what little Korra caught of their conversation, Wu was in the process of explaining his progressive government model to the woman, who seemed surprisingly receptive of his proposals.

Korra’s presence, however, disturbed the calm environment. Bolin lifted his head, and when his eyes fell on her, he grinned.

“Hey, Korra,” he greeted. “I’d say good morning, but uh... Yeah.” A nudge of the head lead the Avatar’s eyes out the window behind him. In line with his words, the sun was already in the middle of the sky, closer to sinking than rising. A shade of red blanketed her cheeks afterward.

“Um... Sorry for sleeping in so late.” Her gaze, once peering beyond the great pine forests, sunk until they landed on Kuvira. No longer was her attention held by Wu; she watched her, waiting for the Avatar to notice the crafty smirk that tugged at the corner of her lip, and she did little to hide it. Korra didn’t know what to make of the expression, which was why she ignored it almost immediately. The most deserving of her attention was sweet Mako, who leaned back in his chair with the purest of smiles. Not a bitter bone in his body, that boy.

“Asami passed by a few minutes ago,” was the most he said, making Korra ease closer and lean against the railing.

“Yeah?” she said, unsurprised. Her neck lowered her head slightly, brows raising as though she sought approval. “How’d I do?”

Both brothers responded with a thumbs up.


End file.
